


Triggered

by pmastamonkmonk



Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:02:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22705909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pmastamonkmonk/pseuds/pmastamonkmonk
Summary: Angel Dust had never really thought too much about the static hum surrounding Alastor wherever he went... until now anyway.
Relationships: Alastor/Angel Dust (Hazbin Hotel)
Comments: 26
Kudos: 775





	Triggered

Angel Dust had noticed the quiet buzz of static around Alastor when the Radio Demon had first come to the hotel, it was hard to miss, really – though with how quickly he’d moved away from his come on, he hadn’t had much time to think about it.

In the following weeks, Angel Dust had made a few more passes at the shorter man. He’d tried overt offers of sexual favors, more subtle flirts with batting eyes and huskily spoken compliments, as well as a few other tricks in between only to be turned down each and every time with Alastor calling upon the “five foot rule” before beating a hasty retreat.

Angel Dust wasn’t stupid, contrary to popular belief, and while he was persistent he knew when to back off to prevent actual offense. One evening he found Alastor at the bar and decided a peace offering was in order. He traded in his good boy points for some whiskey, placed it down in front of the radio demon, and pointedly took a seat with three chairs in between them, drinking his soda water without complaint.

“Just ‘cause you don’t wanna fuck me doesn’t mean we can’t be pals,” he shrugged, smiling around his straw at Alastor’s suspicious look. “Might be nice to talk to someone who doesn’t want anything outta me at the end of the night.”

The Radio Demon had laughed at that, sharp and surprised. He picked up the whiskey and pointedly took a sip, humming in satisfaction. “Finally, something we can agree on, my dear.”

Angel Dust beamed.

They’d fallen into an easy routine over the following weeks. On nights they were both present in the hotel, they would seat themselves three seats apart – always empty seats to make conversation easier and neither made an attempt to bridge the gap. They would chat idly, Angel Dust attempting to keep his lewd comments to a minimum and Alastor being less… bristly when one slipped.

It was a surprisingly easy camaraderie and Angel Dust found himself looking forward to those quiet evenings. Sure, they talked to each other in the hallway every so often or across the dinner table, but the nights at the bar with only Husker and the odd wayward hotel patron felt more special somehow.

It was nice.

Until it wasn’t.

Angel had been sitting at the bar, nursing a cocktail and half-assedly flirting with Husker just to get his feathers to fluff when the usual tin of static entered the room, though tonight it was much louder. Angel Dust glanced up, “You sound like an old TV after broadcastin’ hours.”

Alastor beamed, twirling his microphone stand as he approached, “So I’ve been told. Dreadful things, televisions, lacking any subtlety. All show and no tell!” a laugh track played behind him as he slid onto a stool with the customary three between them.

Angel Dust’s fur stood on end as the aura of static enveloped him. The white noise seemed to intensify, loud enough to drown out all other sound – or was that the blood rushing in his ears? All of a sudden, Angel Dust felt himself laying on a firm mattress, his hands – only two, why were there only two? – bound as were his ankles as phantom hands held his thrashing arms and legs down. He remembered cursing and spitting as the mouth guard was forced past his teeth, moaning in terror as the head gear was slid over his temples, the gel cool on his skin but rapidly warming as his heart pounded. The buzz of static building and building, his hair standing on end and his skin tightening the only warning before the shock went through him.

“-Dust. Angel Dust. Can you hear me?”

Breathing deeply, Angel Dust jerked away as a clawed hand touched his shoulder, barely managing to land on his feet as he fell off the stool, eyes darting around in an attempt to orient himself.

Wooden floors, brightly lit windows… no metal framed furniture, no orderlies. His gaze finally landed on Alastor and he was surprised to find the other man looking somewhat… concerned?

“My dear boy, I didn’t even do anything!” the radio demon laughed, lowering his outstretched hand. He had stood up at some point, closer than Angel Dust could remember him ever being and obviously confused. “What brought this on?”

“I… I don’t…” He swallowed thickly, his fur bending towards the other man, his skin tight underneath as the buzz seemed to rattle his teeth. “I… Fat Nuggets. Now. Bye.”

He resisted the urge to _run_ , swiftly walking away from the bar, heedless to Husk’s call about his abandoned drink – barely touched on the bar. He needed to get away, he needed to be alone.

His left eye throbbed.

\--

It was a fluke he decided the next morning, having spent the evening thrashing through nightmares of rough hands and sharp instruments. His sheets were soaked through with sweat and he balled them up irritably, throwing them into the basket with a silent apology to Nifty.

He hadn’t thought of Saint Margaret’s since the last time he’d gone through withdrawals… except he couldn’t remember taking anything recently. Charlie had cracked down and he’d detoxed within the first few weeks of Alastor’s time at the hotel, nothing but weed and alcohol since.

Attempting to light up a joint, his hands were shaking too hard to get the lighter going and he threw it at the wall in frustration. A bath, he decided. He needed to take a bath.

Angel Dust spent longer than usual in the bathroom, soaking in a tub full of bubbles and fizzing bath salts. He luxuriated in scrubbing every inch of his fur, exfoliating and moisturizing, pleased at the fresh feeling left behind. He took his time brushing fine sand into his fur and applying his make up the best he could with still trembling fingers, hoping to cover up the dark circles and disguise how blood shot his eyes were. When the silence became oppressive, he turned on some music, hoping to drown out the echoes still pulsing through his brain.

Fat Nuggets scratched at the door and Angel Dust pulled his blazer on, quickly buttoning it as he pulled on his gloves with his free hands. Latching the leash into place, he took a deep breath and let himself out of his room.

“Ah, Angel Dust!”

Without meaning too, he tensed. He could hear the click of Alastor’s fancy oxfords on the hardwood floor and forced himself to turn around, plastering a beaming smile on his face.

“What’s up, Smiles?”

Alastor smiled widely in return, “Glad to see you are in higher spirits than last evening. You gave Husker quite the scare, not too often you leave a drink unfinished, my dear!”

Angel Dust let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding when his fur didn’t start to bristle, the din of static soft and barely noticeable like usual. “You don’t sound like a busted TV.”

The radio demon tilted his head inquisitively, eyes narrowing at the odd statement. “Hm?”

“Last night. You sounded like a TV, remember? But now you don’t.”

“Ah.” Alastor nodded. “That happens only sometimes.” He gestured with his microphone stand, “Radio Demon, you know.”

Angel Dust forced a laugh before taking a deep breath, relaxing. “Right. Well. This one needs to go out before Nifty has a mess to clean up… so…” he shifted from foot to foot for a moment before starting to walk away.

Of course Alastor fell into step behind him, following him into the lobby and out into the courtyard, arms folded primly behind his back.

Angel Dust attempted to ignore him, still feeling off kilter from the night before, an itch _under_ his skin leaving him twitchy and uncomfortable. He let Fat Nuggets loose into the garden, rubbing a hand over his face with a deep sigh.

“This may be untoward… but are you quite alright?”

“Fine. Didn’t sleep much is all.”

Alastor hummed, not looking away from the garden in front of them. Fat Nuggets trotted up, snuffling at Alastor’s trousers before squonking and ambling away to root under a nearby shrub. Angel Dust smiled at the amused look Alastor gave the little pig, feeling himself relax more and more as minutes passed into nearly half an hour of quiet.

Last night had been a fluke, nothing more.

“Well, my dear, as I said, happy to see you in higher spirits. Do attempt to get some rest today… hate for Husker to worry.”

Angel Dust laughed, “Yeah, wouldn’t want that.”

Humming, the static around Alastor shifted through stations before landing on some soft jazz, following him as he made his departure. Angel Dust scratched idly at the fur at the base of his neck.

Just a fluke.

\--

It took almost a week for Angel Dust to stop tensing at Alastor’s approach. The din of static stayed at a manageable hum, barely there and only noticeable if Angel Dust listened for it. The nightmares had continued for only a few more days, and Angel Dust decided it really had just been a one off.

Until it wasn’t.

He’d come back from a gig for Valentino, relaxing on the lounge floor and rolling a ball for Fat Nuggets to chase after. The pig would nose it back in his direction, trotting from hoof to hoof until he rolled it away, squonking happily in pursuit. It was a nice way to spend the evening, interrupted by the white water rush of static, his spine tensing as his fur fluffed.

_“Nurse, hold his head.”_

_“No, no! Get that away from me! What’re you doin’? No!”_

_“Anthony, please calm down. This is delicate work, my boy, we simply want to fix your temperament, wouldn’t that be nice?”_

_“You sick fucks wanna shove a stick in my eye! I saw what happened to Schultzy!”_

_“Tsk, tsk… there are always risks with such procedures. Now if you would hold still… this won’t hurt... a… bit.”_

Angel Dust screamed, wrenching away at the touch to his face and raising a hand to his eye, forcing his back against the wall in an attempt to escape.

Alastor jerked his hand back, smile falling for the briefest moment at the obvious fear on Angel Dust’s face. “Angel Dust?”

Panting for air, Angel Dust’s gaze darted around the room, landing on Fat Nuggets cowering behind the sofa before rolling up to Alastor. The white noise was still loud and buzzing but was quieting as the minutes passed, drowned out by his own heaving gasps.

“Angel Dust, can you hear me?”

“…Al?” He let out a shuddering breath, gaze rolling around the room again. “Where’s Doctor Simonson?”

Alastor’s brow knit. “Who?”

Angel Dust was clawing at his eye, gloved hand rubbing over it fiercely and smudging his make up into the freely running tears, leaving long tracks of black and pink glitter down his cheek. Alastor leaned forward, gently pulling it away before he caused any real damage. “The Doc… nurse Shelley… they were gonna… he was…”

“Angel Dust, have you taken anything?”

“Huh?”

Alastor was smiling again, but Angel Dust could see the concerned creasing of his brow. “Drugs. Did Valentino give you anything today?”

“No. I haven’t… I just…” he slumped, still breathing quickly but able to relax as the white noise finally receded. “You.”

“Yes, me. Are you sure you haven’t taken anything? Your pupils are reacting normally, but still…”

_“Pupil reaction normal, I believe this was a successful procedure. Nurse, escort him to observation, we’ll keep him there for a few days.”_

Angel Dust shuddered, rubbing at his eye again. His skin felt two sizes too small and his head was pounding. “No. I haven’t taken anything. Just… I need to go lay down.”

Alastor still looked concerned but stepped away to let the spider pass by. After a few minutes Fat Nuggets snorted, finally creeping out from behind the sofa and approaching Alastor, settling at his feet with a sad sounding squonk.

“Come on, then, we need to speak with Charlie.”

\--

Angel Dust didn’t leave his room for three days. Both Charlie and Vaggie came in to check on him, Charlie more subtle in her search of his room while Vaggie actually dug through drawers and kicked at floor boards.

“I’m not takin’ anything.” He grumbled from his place at his vanity, curled up in his favorite fur lined robe. “Haven’t taken anything.”

Charlie had stuttered and Vaggie had shrugged, continuing her search, satisfied fifteen minutes later when she found nothing but an empty wine glass and a drawer of sex toys.

“We’re just worried,” the princess was fidgeting the way she did when she was uncomfortable and Angel Dust felt a spike of guilt at making her feel that way. “Alastor… he said you were acting strange. He said you screamed at him.”

“He surprised me,” Angel Dust mumbled, turning towards his reflection, watching the girls look at each other behind him as he busied his hands reorganizing tubes and bottles of cosmetics.

Charlie approached and after a long moment of hesitation placed a hand on his robed shoulder. “Angel Dust. We’re you’re friends… we just want to make sure you’re okay. You know that, right?”

Angel Dust stared at her hand in the mirror, waiting for the cold wash of fear to flood his system, the voices to start… and when nothing happened he closed his eyes. “Yeah, I know. Tell Al it’s nothin’ he did… I’ve been havin’ trouble sleepin’ is all. Think he just startled me.”

Charlie didn’t seem convinced, but nodded anyway.

“If you feel up to it, Nifty said she was making something special for you for dinner since you’ve missed it the last few days. If you don’t, we’ll bring it up to you… but I’m sure getting out of your room for a bit will feel nice.”

Angel Dust stared at his reflection for a long moment before nodding. “Sure, toots, dinner sounds great.”

\--

Over the next week, Angel Dust made a point to leave his room, and moreover the hotel. He’d been missing a lot of time with Valentino and decided now was a great opportunity to make up those lost hours – spending as long as possible off hotel grounds.

He passed Alastor a few time over the course of the week, managing to slip away before the other man could approach him. Luckily, Alastor was too polite to step away from a conversation he was already engrossed in to chase him down, giving him plenty of time to disappear into his room or out the doors to a waiting limo. On the few times the other man did manage to catch him, he always had an excuse ready, escaping before his fur bristled.

He felt guilty – their friendship had taken so long to build up, but the longer he stayed away the less tense he was, the easier it came to sleep. He had resisted the urge to accept drugs at the studio, fearful it would just make things worse, but dodging the hotel bar and his evening’s with Alastor made the siren’s call of a decent high all the louder, especially when even the slightest buzz of static made him tense.

Returning to his room just before curfew, Angel Dust dug through his pockets for his room key, sighing heavily and slack with exhaustion from a long day of work. He didn’t notice the hum until a hand landed on his shoulder, jolting him hard enough that he dropped his key.

“There you are, my dear!”

“Jesus fuck, Al, someone needs to put a fucking bell on you, fuck.” Angel Dust wrenched himself away, almost tripping on his heels in his hurry to put distance between them.

“I’ve been told that before,” Alastor laughed, the tin of the radio giving his voice a sharp crackle. “However I’d suggest the same, you’ve been a difficult man to track down these last few days!”

Angel Dust swallowed, trying to keep his breathing even, relaxing slightly as the static stayed low and quiet, barely noticeable. “Yeah, well…”

“Why are you avoiding me?” Alastor asked, blunt as ever. “Based on your physical reactions, I’d say you were afraid of me, but I’d like to think I know better than that. Yet you can’t seem to stand to be in my presence at all recently. Have I done something to offend you?”

“What, no. I haven’t been avoidin’ you!”

Alastor tilted is head. “Every time I have entered a room, you’ve left. Yesterday you walked away from Nifty mid sentence when I went into the kitchen.”

Angel Dust sighed, “Okay, so I’ve been avoiding you.”

“… _are_ you afraid of me?”

Angel Dust felt his shoulders fall, sighing. “You’re not scary, Al, least not to me… it’s just…” he huffed. “You’re… staticky.”

“…Staticky.”

Angel Dust gestured to the air around him. “Sometimes it’s like you rubbed yourself with balloons and whenever you come by my fur puffs out. It’s… it makes me…” he folded his arms, holding onto himself. Closing his eyes, he hunched his shoulders, swallowing thickly. “You ever… you ever hear about electro shock therapy?”

Alastor tilted his head. “I vaguely recall reporting on something from Italy just before I died. An alternative to more common drugs to alleviate mental illness, if I remember correctly.”

“Yeah, well… not a great alternative.” Angel Dust scoffed, looking up through his eyelashes and absentmindedly trying to smooth his fur down on his arms. “And bein’ queer was a mental illness back then.”

Something seemed to click for Alastor and the other man actually looked _contrite_. “Ah. That is… unfortunate.”

“It’s not all the time!” Angel Dust insisted. “Sometimes… sometimes you’re not staticky at all. Or, well, not really. Like right now is… fine. It’s fine. It’s barely anything.” He was combing his claws through his fur again.

“But other times…”

Angel Dust shrugged, looking at the wall.

“Has this happened to you before? The… remembering?”

“Sometimes when I’m detoxin’…” Angel Dust muttered. “Or on a bad trip. Never anythin’ like this.”

Alastor mulled that over for a few moments. “It’s not something I’ve ever really thought about- simply a constant around me. I’ll have to be more mindful.” Alastor nodded his head decisively. “I apologize for the inconvenience I’ve caused you. I hope this won’t prevent our evening encounters in the future, I admit I have found my time at the bar lacking without your company.”

Angel Dust smiled, finally looking up fully once more. “Aww, missed me that much? That’s sweet, Al, maybe next time I’ll let you buy me a drink.”

Alastor tilted his head, smiling coolly. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, dear, or too used to kind words.” He leaned down and picked up the discarded key, unlocking Angel Dust’s door with ease and opening it with a gesture for the other man to enter. “I have a reputation, you know.”

“Such a gentleman,” Angel Dust held the back of a hand to his forehead, fanning himself theatrically with another as he passed by. “Ma warned me about boys like you, y’know.”

“I’m sure.” Alastor rolled his eyes, smiling widely and twirling his microphone stand as he stepped back. “Good evening, Angel Dust, until tomorrow.”

\--

Despite their conversation, Angel Dust still found himself tensing whenever the dull hum of static approached him. True to Alastor’s word, he was being mindful of it, keeping it no louder than a faint buzz, but even that set Angel Dust’s teeth on edge and had his heart pounding in a completely different way than the man’s presence usually inspired.

He still found himself subconsciously avoiding him. While he made appearances at the bar, sitting in his usual seat, he could barely stay long enough to finish one cocktail before feeling the urge to escape. He was still taking shifts with Valentino as an excuse to leave the hotel and not only dodging Alastor but also Charlie’s worried attempts to speak with him.

He could tell Alastor was noticing, too, the way the other man would pause in his approach at the sight of him stiffening, the knit of his brow and the slight fall of his smile at his reactions.

Angel Dust powered through, though, slowly managing to spend more and more time in the scarlet demon’s presence before it became too much. He still tensed up, but relaxed all the more quickly. He knew if he wanted to be able to enjoy Alastor’s company, his reaction was something he’d need to overcome… and he did want to hang around with the other man. He _liked_ being around Alastor.

“Angel Dust, if I could have a word?”

Clenching and unclenching a fist and counting back from ten, Angel Dust grinned. “Sure, Smiles. Echolocation, all yours.”

Alastor hummed a short laugh before gesturing for Angel Dust to follow him. The spider could feel the dull pulse of static and breathed deeply, reminding himself several times that he was in the hotel, Alastor was not going to hurt him, and that despite the itch under his skin he did actually enjoy being around the other man.

Stopping at a random door in a seldom used hallway, Alastor opened it and ushered Angel Dust inside.

“I’ve been attempting to control my… static more.” Alastor admitted as he closed the door behind him. “As I mentioned, it’s not something I’ve ever thought much about as it’s always somewhat present around my person. Of course I’ve noticed it gets more intense in certain situations and have tempered it as well as my presence around you accordingly, however that’s no excuse for causing you distress.”

Angel Dust had put a few more paces between them, relaxing when his skin stopped twitching under his fur, “Hey, don’t think you gotta change anythin’ for me. I’ll get used to it, eventually… already gettin’ easier! Damn near shut down the bar last night with ya.”

“Angel Dust, I’ve sent you into two fits of hysteria in a short matter of weeks simply by approaching you. You’re currently attempting to cross the room without me noticing in an effort to avoid me even now.”

Angel Dust stopped in his tracks - he hadn’t even noticed his own shuffling steps. “Yeah, well…”

Alastor had folded his arms behind his back, “Since my first day at this establishment, you’ve been the one person to not show fear or hesitation in my presence. That is a rarity and I quite enjoyed our routine as it had been… and I’d like to think you did as well.”

Angel Dust huffed, “Yeah, Molls always said I had the self preservation of a lemming.”

“So,” he continued, heedless of Angel Dust’s interruption, “you must understand my upset when suddenly I can’t come near you without instilling some form of terror, however brief it may be.”

“Al, I ain’t afraid of you... it’s just… shit I gotta deal with. You know I ain’t afraid of _you_ right?”

Alastor leveled him with a long stare. “Does the source of your terror really matter when the outcome is the same?”

Angel Dust had no response to that.

“I believe I have found a solution, though.” Alastor unfolded his arms and took a deep breath, rolling his neck. All of a sudden the low hum of static was completely gone, not even a dull rumbling, but utterly silent. “Now dis’ll take some gettin’ used to, ain’t talked like dis in a month a Sundays.”

Angel Dust stared at him.

“None too many know ‘bout dis,” Alastor explained, head tilting more fluidly than usual, more of a bouncing shrug than anything. “Fixin’ to keep it that way, if y’ catch my drift.”

“Oh. Uh… sure.” Angel Dust blinked a few times before shaking his head. “Is… okay, like I know I learned ‘correct speech’ in school but never used it… is all your radio talk just a front you put on?”

“You can take the boy outta the bayou, cher, but can’t take bayou outta the boy. Accents like dis didn’t test well on the airwaves, li’l bit of work and you can sound like a whole new man.”

“If you don’t want people to know, then why show me?”

A shrug. “Just said I enjoyed our routine. Can’t have that if y’can’t stand t’be around me. I tried a few things, but dis is de only way to shut the static off hundred percent.”

Angel Dust tried to bite back a smile, moving closer. “You can’t talk like this all the time, ‘specially if you wanna keep it a secret.”

“Hopefully ‘nuff time and y’won’t be so skittish when I don’t.” Alastor shrugged. “None too many come by when we’re drinkin’ and Husker knows already, worse case we find somewhere else to do it.”

There was a long beat of silence and Angel Dust laughed. “I’m going to hug you now, okay?”

“ _Eskize?_ ”

Angel Dust stepped forward, four arms wrapping around Alastor in a loose embrace, two around his shoulders and two around his middle. It was the other man’s turn to tense up, obviously not sure what to do with his own hands, simply standing there and allowing the contact to happen.

“Thank you. For puttin’ in the effort. It means a lot.”

Alastor huffed, “Supposed to jus’ let you _boudé_ when there’s drinkin’ to do? Knew you was simple, not _couillon, cher._ ”

Angel Dust laughed, stepping back and resting his hands on his hips. “You’re right, it’ll definitely take some time gettin’ used to you talkin’ like that.” He smirked , “It’s kinda sexy, tight laced guy like you with an accent like that? I’m into it.”

Alastor pointedly ignored the… compliment. “You be patient with my accent, I’ll be patient with you tensin’ up ‘round me, _d’accord_? Jus’ gotta spend more time together, straighten dis out lickety-split, _c’est bien_!” He made his way towards the door, holding it open and gesturing with his free hand for Angel Dust to pass by. “Now, you said somethin’ ‘bout lettin’ me buy you a drink.”

Shaking his head, Angel Dust walked by, grinning as Alastor led him down the hall. “I did, didn’t I?”

“Always nice to be with someone who don’t want nothin’ at the end of the night.”

Angel Dust smiled at the Radio Demon’s back as he followed him down the hallway towards the lobby, feeling completely at ease for the first time in weeks. “Yeah. It really is.”


End file.
